


you make my heart sing louder

by yanak324



Series: love on the brain [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arya is a little clueless, But she's in love, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Romance, Proposals, Public Display of Affection, Sansa Knows All, and so is Gendry and he can't help but express it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22391614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324/pseuds/yanak324
Summary: Through it all, Arya hadn't noticed how Gendry had softened her, had lifted some of those walls she’d built over the years.It had taken Sansa, in a half-hungover state, to point it out to her.Or the one in which Gendry's cute displays of affection lead Arya to an important realization. Established Gendrya. Modern AU. Absolute fluff.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: love on the brain [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510148
Comments: 77
Kudos: 227





	you make my heart sing louder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelandofnothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelandofnothing/gifts).



> When you've got an urge for fluff, you just go with it. This is for my soul sista [thelandofnothing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelandofnothing/pseuds/thelandofnothing) for getting into uni and being my absolute rock and an all-around badass. 
> 
> Title stolen from Gavin Degraw, characters on retainer from GRRM, and apologies in advance for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy <3

She doesn’t notice it until Sansa points it out one day. 

They’d all gone drinking the night before and Arya has a killer headache.

For some ungodly reason, Gendry decided he’d like to cook breakfast instead of going out to the greasy diner down the street. 

So, she’s stuck setting the table while he’s joyously flipping pancakes and bacon on the griddle. Not hungover at all.

Theon hasn’t even risen off the couch, and is snoring up a storm. Sansa is on her third cup of coffee, doing absolutely nothing to help Arya under the pretense of being their house guest. 

She is understandably a little grumpy; and barely notices when Gendry comes up behind her to set a plate of pancakes on the table. He brushes his lips across her temple in the process and announces he’s going to go wake up sleeping beauty. 

Arya leans into the space left behind by his lips, because really she’s only human. She also knows through copious amounts of experience that nothing soothes a hangover quite like being in Gendry’s arms. Preferably under the covers in their bed and in absolute silence. 

Maybe if she’s lucky, she can kick Sansa and her noisy, snoring boyfriend out. Then she and _her_ boyfriend can spend the rest of the day in that exact position. Maybe with a lot less clothes on than they’re both wearing now. 

The promise of a naked Gendry brings a secret smile to her face and a little relief to the pounding between her temples. She is almost too distracted to notice her sister’s odd look.

Operative word being almost. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sansa shrugs but her amusement is clear as day.

“C’mon, spit it out. You know you want to.” 

Her sister’s smile gets wider and then softer all at once. 

“It’s really nothing. Just cute to see you like this.”

“Like what?” It’s either the hangover or the lack of caffeine, but Arya truly has a hard time understanding. 

She decides to rectify the latter and is in the midst pouring herself a cup when Sansa speaks again.

“All coupled up and sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with any other boyfriend.” 

From the living room, she can hear Theon’s protests and Gendry’s patient suggestion that he get the hells of their couch. Arya can’t even hide her smile as she glances down at the floor. 

“Gendry’s not like any other boyfriend.” 

She admits this with a shrug. Like it’s the most casual and obvious thing in the world, and a clear explanation of why she’s different with him.

In truth, she’s never even stopped to think about it, and maybe that’s exactly what it is. 

Maybe when things work, you don’t need to think about it; maybe you don’t have to work so hard for it. She doesn’t have much time to contemplate it as Sansa lets out a small chuckle and takes another sip of coffee. 

“Oh, I know he’s not like any other boyfriend.” 

She says it such a way that makes Arya feel like she is missing something.

“And what do you mean by that?” 

Sansa barely suppresses the urge to roll her eyes and Arya’s grateful for it. She doesn’t think she has the patience for her sister’s know it all attitude this morning. 

“Means you wouldn’t let just anyone openly show you affection, let alone kiss you, in public.” 

“What?” Arya exclaims, suddenly indignant, “we don’t do that.” 

She’s about to protest even more but Theon chooses that moment to drag himself into the kitchen and slump down next to Sansa, leaning on her like a lost puppy. 

Gendry’s not too far behind him and before Arya can say anymore, he wraps his arm around her waist and asks if she’s feeling better. 

“I’ll feel better once I eat.” 

Arya shoves him to the table, and avoids eye contact with her sister when Gendry presses a quick kiss to her cheek and piles up her plate full of pancakes.

xxx 

She doesn’t think about it until they’re at Gendry’s office holiday party some weeks later, and he casually kisses her forehead when she offers him the last shrimp on her plate. 

She must give him a strange look, because he levels a gaze back at her, as usual making her feel like she’s the only one in the room. 

“Everything alright?” 

“Yeah." 

She shoves a cracker in her mouth so she doesn’t have to expand on it, but Gendry’s far more perceptive than people give him credit for. So, Arya’s not surprised when he doesn’t relent. 

“You sure?”

Right then, a song she loves comes on and she’s had just enough G&Ts to make her feel a little loose so instead of answering, she just tugs him to the dance floor.

Because how do you tell your boyfriend that he’s turning you into a pile of mush and beyond not even noticing, you simply don't care. 

xxx 

It’s not that Arya hates PDA, it’s just that she’s never been a tactile person. Sure, her father gives some of the best hugs in the world, and there was no shortage of getting her hair ruffled by her older brothers when she was younger. 

But when it comes to relationships, to boyfriends, she’s always preferred to keep that bit private. 

With Micah, it had been different. They were young, foolish, kissed maybe a total of ten times in the eight months they’d “dated” in high school. They were always better as friends. 

With Ned, it just always felt forced. Like he tried to put a claim on her, make sure everyone in the ten-mile radius knew that she was with him. And it stifled the fuck out of her.

Because Arya Stark belonged to no one but herself, and that independence had been, for better or worse, an intrinsic part of her personality, of her entire persona, for so long that nobody dared to infringe on it.

Until Gendry came along. 

Well, he didn’t so much come along as reappeared again. An old uni friend of Robb’s who relocated to Winterfell for a job, and suddenly he was everywhere she was.

At their favorite pub on trivia nights.

At their Sunday family dinners. 

On their annual camping trip up to Last Hearth.

It was during one of those star-filled nights, the two of them the last ones left around a dying fire, sharing a small flask of whiskey, that Gendry kissed her for the first time.

Or more like they’d kissed each other. Their lips met somewhere in the middle, and he’d tasted like whiskey and s'mores and Arya had practically shoved him into his tent not ten minutes later.

She still laughs when she remembers the bewildered look on Robb’s face when he caught her sneaking back into her tent the next morning. She’d sworn him to secrecy until she and Gendry figured it out, but it seemed like very little needed to be figured out in the end.

They fell naturally in step together. Nothing had really changed. 

They still went to the pub on Fridays, and he still came to family dinners. 

Except now, instead of sitting next to Robb at the dinner table, he’d sit next to her. This proved to be a lot of fun because now she could torment him with her hands under the table, watching as the tips of his ears turned pink the higher on his inseam her fingers would go. 

Inevitably, she would pay for it later. When he’d have her pressed against the front door the second they’d get into his apartment or bent over the couch minutes later, or even once or twice in his car, if she’d been particularly brazen that evening. 

It had never felt forced though, or unnatural, or like Gendry'd laid any claim over her. It’s why when he’d suggested that she move in with him after less than six months together - because she was there every other night anyway and what was the point of paying double rent - Arya didn’t even think twice about it. 

Just like everything else in their relationship, moving in together made sense too. 

It made sense to come home to him and cook dinner for them while he told her about his day. 

It made sense to motivate each other to wake up ridiculously early for their morning workouts. 

It made sense to make slow, lazy love on Sunday mornings and see how long they could last without putting a stitch of clothes on. 

All of it had fallen into place, because it felt natural. They argued and bickered, as any couple would, but Gendry never once made her feel like she owed him something, and she, in turn, could always pick up on his moods and know when to back away and when to push.

Through it all, Arya hadn't noticed how Gendry had softened her. How he'd lifted some of the walls she’d built over the years. It had taken Sansa, in a half-hungover state, to point it out to her.

Because apparently, while her boyfriend typically had the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, he’d warmed his way into her heart and into her life with a precision and artistry that made it hard for her to imagine him ever _not_ being there. 

Once the thought settles in her mind, Arya can’t seem to part with it; can’t seem to _unsee_ how Gendry has become an extension of her at this point. 

How for all her independence and constant need to prove that she doesn’t belong to anyone, she’d happily belong to him for the rest of her life.

The most ironic part is that this all occurs to her while they’re standing in the middle of her parents’ living room, all her most important people in one place, as Sansa’s birthday party rages on.

Gendry’s glued to her side, one arm around her shoulders, the other curled around a beer bottle as they watch her sister unwrap presents. 

“You know I love you, right?” 

Arya doesn’t even look up at him as she says this, eyes still trained ahead. The ensuing kiss on her temple, followed by his soft chuckle, only solidifies her decision further.

“I do, what’s this about?” 

“Well, I was thinking.” 

“Uh oh.”

And she elbows him in his side, because how could she not, and it’s all suddenly rather perfect, because of course he would tease her, and be entirely oblivious to what she wants to ask him. 

And it dawns on Arya that she’d very much like to see his face when she does so she pivots in his arms and slides her own loosely around his waist as she rests her chin on his chest. 

Gendry smiles down at her, eyes twinkling, and there’s not a hint of nerves anywhere in her. 

Just her wondering why she’d even had to wait this long.

“As I was saying,” she raises her eyebrow for good measure, daring him to interrupt again, but Gendry merely sets his beer on the fireplace mantle, and secures both arms around her.

“I love you and you love me.”

“I do.” 

Arya bites back a smile at that, the quick way he confirms it, as if she didn’t know already. It’s suddenly stupid how much she loves this man, and how badly she just wants to ask him.

“So, why not make it permanent?” 

The only sign of Gendry's surprise is how his eyes widen, pools of crystal blue waters that remind her of the Essosi beaches. But otherwise, there’s nothing out of the ordinary here, and yet she knows even before he speaks what he’s going to say. 

“Arya, what are you asking?” 

This time, she doesn’t hide her smile, gaze trained entirely on him so Gendry knows exactly how much she loves him, and how unafraid she is to let the world know too.

“I’m asking if you want to make an honest woman out of me, duh.”

It’s not the most romantic as proposals go, and she’s not exactly expecting him to faint over it, but when Gendry bursts out laughing, there’s a tiny, infinitesimal part of her that simmers. 

“What’s so funny?” she asks, an edge to her tone that she can’t conceal. 

Though Gendry stops laughing, his expression is still full of humor, and a twinge of disbelief, and it’s the only reason she doesn’t immediately shove him. 

“Nothing’s funny,” he says into the quiet space between them, “I just can’t believe you beat me to it.” 

And a second later, when his smile drops and his hands leave her waist to cradle her cheeks, and he leans down to kiss her, she lets him. 

She lets him slant his lips over hers and slip his tongue in her mouth and fill her with absolute warmth and want. And even though she can hear the faint sounds of heckling from her family, Robb’s voice louder than the rest yelling at them to get a room, Arya doesn’t pull away. 

If anything, she leans in closer, deepening the kiss, and only letting go when she thinks they’re getting dangerously close to shedding articles of clothing. 

And later when they get home and Gendry pulls a delicate ring out of a box stuffed somewhere in the depths of his sock drawer, she doesn’t bother hiding her tears or her smile, because she really can’t imagine any other way that this would happen. 

And at their next family dinner, when they tell her family they are engaged, she’s the one who leans over and initiates the kiss, because as it turns out, there are merits to public displays of affection after all. 

xxx


End file.
